Persuading Grace
by LushBaby
Summary: Luke wants to talk to Grace about the kiss in ‘Silence’ and finds he’s talking about a lot more than that when he proves to her he’s a moose, not an elk. Sorry, my summaries suck!


Persuading Grace

By LushBaby

Rating: PG-13 for sexual situations

Summary: Luke wants to talk to Grace about the kiss in 'Silence' and finds he's talking about a lot more than that when he proves to her he's a moose, not an elk. Sorry, my summaries suck!

Usual Disclaimer: Just borrowing, honest. All accolades, awards, and applause go to Barbara Hall, and all the brilliant peeps that make JoA so great.

* * *

Luke knew Grace would have to leave sometime. She couldn't stay up in Joan's room indefinitely, so he camped out on the front porch waiting to ambush her when she left. Since the night he walked her home from the hospital—since the night they had kissed under the stars in that rain-washed alley—Luke had waited for Grace. 

Waited for her to stop avoiding him.

Waited for her to admit they had something.

Waited for her to kiss him again.

But he was tired of waiting. She had managed to avoid him for over a month, making sure they were never alone. But tomorrow Joan was going away to that rehab camp and Luke knew that Grace would not be coming around. Not for him. He had to see her tonight, to talk to her, to persuade her that it was okay to like someone. He didn't even know what he was going to say, he just knew he had to try. The closest he had to a plan was volunteering to mop the kitchen floor so she'd have to leave by the front door. But at least it looked like it worked as he could hear his mom telling Grace to use the front door and telling her not to be a stranger while Joan was away. Luke braced himself. The door opened and Grace Polk stood in the doorway, the light from the dining room halo-ing her blonde hair for a moment before she stepped into the dusky gloom of the porch and shut the door behind her.

"Hey," Luke said quietly, standing up from the porch swing he'd been sitting on for the past hour.

Grace visibly jumped and swung around. "Geez, Geek. What are you doing skulking in the corner like that? Do you have night-vision binoculars and a hidden transmitter too?"

Luke ignored the sarcasm. "I wanted to talk to you," he said simply. He could see Grace gearing up to rush past him and he forestalled her with a gentle hand on her arm. "Please?"

Grace huffed out a sigh and sat down on the swing, crossing her arms over her chest. "Five minutes, Girardi, then I'm history. Don't sit next to me," she added as he started to sit down.

Luke leaned against the porch railing and studied her for a moment, trying to gauge how receptive she would be to him. Her body language said not at all, but she was actually giving him a chance and she knew that he was going to want to talk about that kiss, so maybe she wanted to talk about it too.

"Grace, about that night--"

"Listen, Girardi. Everything I said that night was the truth. That kiss was just a momentary lapse of judgment."

"Bullshit." Luke straightened his lanky frame and paced back and forth. "You said you weren't into me and then you kissed me like you were very into me. You cannot tell me you didn't want to kiss me, that you didn't like it. I'm not buying it, Grace."

"Well, maybe I did," she hesitated, as though feeling for a word, "enjoy it. But that doesn't mean we're going to do it again. It wouldn't lead anywhere."

"Why?"

"Look, Geek-boy, I just don't do relationships. They--"

"Why not?"

"Why don't I do relationships? Cause I'm me." Grace shrugged and got up to leave.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Grace turned away. "Look, can't you see that I'm not exactly girlfriend material? Guys don't go for girls like me."

Luke grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face him again. He had heard the faint note of resentment and he desperately wanted to reassure her. "Not every guy is looking for a Barbie doll for a girlfriend."

"Yeah, maybe, but they're not looking for someone like me either. I'm not sweet, nice or pretty--" Luke interrupted her again, this time putting his hands on either side of her face and holding her firmly, forcing her to look into his eyes.

"You know what Grace. You're right, you're not pretty; you're beautiful. Yes," he paused, shushing her protests with his finger on her lips. "Yes you are. To me. And besides, it's not your face or body that I fell for—it's what's inside here." He tapped her breastbone lightly.

"Yeah, right. The anti-social, sarcastic rebel-girl. Sure you did."

Well, to be honest, it's what underneath that—the woman I know is in there. However, the sarcastic rebel-girl makes me kinda hot too." He grinned suddenly, but then the grin faded and he looked deeply into her eyes once more, his own eyes shadowed by his glasses and the growing obscurity of the night.

"What can I say to convince you that you're the one that I want? That this is the face I like. That I'm dying to see more of what's under that leather jacket. That you're the one I fantasize about at night." Luke stopped suddenly, realizing what he had just said, and half expecting Grace to haul off and deck him for admitting he thought about her in a sexual way. But Grace was simply staring at him.

"You fantasize about me." Her tone was unbelieving. "Me, not the pop-music-princess-of-the-week, Lara Croft, or that Baywatch bimbo with the gigantic breasts?" When he nodded, she just stood there speechless for a moment, a moment that Luke wanted to capture for posterity. When she spoke again, her tone was quiet and more than a little curious. "Just what exactly do you see me doing in these fantasies of yours?"

Luke swallowed convulsively. He had dodged the bullet once, would Grace kill him for admitting just what he saw them doing every night? He looked at her for a moment and decided he'd better come clean.

"Well, it's more what I'm doing to you. I mean, I try not to think of you in that chauvinistic pole-dancing-stripper type way."

"Good call, Girardi."

Luke heard the mild sarcasm, but now knew it for what it was—a defensive mechanism, instead of dislike or contempt. "I can't believe I'm telling you this." Luke shook his head as he led Grace over to the swing and sat down next to her. He took a deep breath.

"Okay. Here goes. My favorite fantasy involves you, me, and the science lab at school." At Grace's 'typical Geek-boy' he went on. "I know, I know, what can I say? The thought of us in there with all those test-tubes and beakers. Anyway," he continued in a rush, seeing that Grace was becoming antsy, "anyway, I'm working and you come in---"

"What am I wearing, geek?"

"Um, usually just whatever you wore to school that day; the leather jacket etc., but sometimes it's that pink dress you wore to the Crystal Ball. So then you come up to my work station and you're standing really close to me and I can smell your perfume--"

"I don't wear perfume, dog."

"Would you stop interrupting me? I know you don't wear perfume, but you still have a scent that's just you—soap, shampoo, leather, and – you." Luke leaned in and closing his eyes briefly, he breathed in that scent—God, she should bottle it, he thought. "Anyway, you walk over to where I'm working and we don't have to say a word. We're standing really close and I slip off your jacket and suddenly we're kissing—deep, long kisses that reach down into my soul. It's like we can't get enough of each other. You're ripping my clothes off—

"Hey! I thought this was about you doing me?"

"It is," he soothed her. "It is. There I am, in the lab, wearing only my boxers and you're taking control as usual. So I decide it's your turn. But I take my time undressing you; I make myself kiss you at least ten times between items of clothing." Luke knew he was blushing; he could feel the heat rising from his face and was glad the twilight had faded and that night had crept up on them, surrounding them with the blessed anonymity of darkness.

"Ten times, huh?" Luke heard disbelief and interest in Grace's husky voice. "Where?"

"Um, everywhere? Your lips, of course, and your face. Studies show that the jaw line and ears tend to be highly erogenous areas for women, unlike men who--"

"Girardi!"

"Yeah, sorry. Anyway, I really like kissing your neck and I guess you do too, because you're arching it, allowing me greater access. Then I remove your tee shirt and everything stops." Luke stopped talking for a moment, trying to rein in his raging hormones so he could continue. It was taking all his willpower not to show her his fantasy instead of telling her. He felt her tense next to him and realized she still didn't know how beautiful she was.

"Everything stopped Grace because you were—are—the hottest thing I've ever seen. I fantasize about following that light dusting of freckles trailing from your collarbone...." Luke swallowed convulsively and daringly let his fingers gently stroke Grace's jaw and neck, slipping them just inside the neckline of her tee shirt, letting his fingers absorb her warmth. He felt her swallow hard.

"Continue, Geek," she whispered, the command floating through the night on her sigh.

Luke took a deep breath. It was one thing to daydream of doing this stuff; it was quite another to be verbalizing his fantasy; baring his deepest, hottest, most private desires to the object of said desires. He decided it would be less embarrassing if he whispered so he leaned closer to Grace and breathed the words into her ear.

"I lift you onto one of the empty workstations and now you're at eye level with me. I step between your jean-clad legs and suddenly we're pressing against each other; your bra's gone and your bare bre," Luke stumbled a bit, "breasts are against my chest and we're moving against each other."

Grace moved suddenly and then she was in his lap, kissing him fiercely. He moaned into her mouth as their tongues met and danced. He could feel her breasts pressing against his chest even through her tee shirt and bra. Luke broke away and started trailing kisses along her jaw, just like his fantasy. He gently nipped her earlobe and was gratified to hear her moan and feel her response as she pressed even closer. He drew the lobe into his mouth and suckled and Grace exploded. She half-lifted off his lap and gasped loudly. Then it was Luke's turn to moan as he could feel her pressing herself into his lap, into the growing bulge in his chinos. They were both gasping now, Luke's fantasy forgotten as reality took over. Luke's hands swept up underneath her tee shirt and stroked her back while Grace tangled her fingers in his hair before reaching for the buttons of his white oxford shirt. She quickly worked the buttons free, popping one off in her impatience, and then her warm hand was inside, running along Luke's chest, feeling the light dusting of hair there.

Luke gasped as he felt Grace's fleeting touch as she explored his body. When she brushed his nipple, he thought he was going to lose it. He had to stop this now or he was going to be very embarrassed.

"Grace." Luke grabbed her hands to still them. "Wait." He kissed her once more before moving her off his lap. Grace stared at him, her eyes wide in shock.

"Oh, god. I have to leave." She jumped up, but Luke was expecting this. He tightened his hold on her hands and pulled her back down next to him.

"No, Grace. There's no running away this time." He turned her face towards his. "Look at me, Grace."

"No!"

"I can't believe this. Grace Polk afraid of me? Look at me."

Angrily Grace's eyes met his. In the faint light from the window, Luke could see a myriad of emotions there. Anger. Trepidation. Confusion. Desire. And maybe—could it be—acceptance?

"Grace, I like you and I'm pretty sure you like me. And I think I've just proved that I find you very desirable. In fact, the desire appears to be mutual. I'm not asking you to wave a banner around town announcing we're dating or anything like that. I'm just asking you to realize that you're who I want to spend time with and maybe, just once before hell freezes over, we could go out on a date or something."

Grace looked down at her lap, one of Luke's hands still entwined with hers. When she spoke, her voice was low and Luke had to strain to hear it.

"I don't know, Luke. Really, I mean it," she hastened to clarify, "I truly don't know if this is something I can do. I don't know if I can let go of a lifetime of beliefs overnight. I will admit that I'm attracted to you and for some strange reason, I enjoy being with you. But I don't know if I'm ready to—to—to be part of a relationship. But if I am," Grace's voice grew stronger and she looked up then and met Luke's eyes unwaveringly. "If I am, then heaven help you."

Luke just sat there stunned and Grace grinned as she got up to leave. "And you are such a liar, Girardi. Lara Croft is so hot _I_ fantasize about her."

The End

A/N: I made up that bit about the erogenous zones being different for men and women. It sounded good and I didn't really want to actually research it. Me bad! Me lazy! R&R please.


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